In a Cruel World
by technogeekmituna
Summary: When Karkat's blood has been revealed, instead of being culled, he is taken to an auction where he is bought by Eridan. As days pass and no contact is made from the crabby troll, Sollux becomes fearful and asks Aradia to help when he stumbles upon a destroyed hive that had belonged to his friend. Concerned, he gives up his freedom for Karkat, but he may have acted too hastily.


The hotel's massive banquet room turned into a temporary auction room was filled with different trolls from different castes; the high-bloods for appearance and looking to score a lovely a new addition to their slave hold, the mid-bloods either making up for a high-blood's absence or catering to the influential guests, and then the low-bloods serving as the main purpose of the auction. The twist to this special auction was that the low-bloods had a distinctive quirk, an unusual trait that stood out compared to other trolls from their blood caste. In this case, it was a flaw or mutation that defined the odd trait, and to the shackled trolls waiting on the opposite side of the curtains it was downright horrifying. Any troll not chosen by a higher caste was executed or put to use in other ways.

For the mutant-blood, with the candy red blood flowing through his veins, Karkat knew he wouldn't have an issue with catching the eye of some high-bloods. Who wouldn't want to show off their brand new mutant with a blood disorder? He snarled at the thought.

He looked at the cuffs linking his wrists together before trying to pull them apart, agitation gnawing at him. Fuck, why were these cuffs so strong? He dropped his arms with a frustrated sigh. Karkat couldn't escape from this, and as much as it pained him to accept that unbearable fact, he had to. He was going to be sold to some self-absorbed high-blood and used for who knows what.

Karkat had messed up, stumbled somewhere when he had been so cautious in keeping his mutated blood a secret. However, he hadn't been cautious enough because obviously someone had discovered his damnable mutation and reported him. The next thing he knew he was being forcibly removed from his hive and transported to a special prison cell all for himself. How luxurious.

He had been furious, scared, and ready to throttle any poor idiot close enough for him to get his hands on. He'd been reprimanded for his actions though, and soon he stopped fighting every troll to step foot into his cell block. Despite that he didn't lash out physically, Karkat's tongue was untamable and it was ready to put down anyone who was in listening range. Words didn't do much aside from earning a common scoff of annoyance or a threat that only fueled Karkat's anger more.

Eventually, Karkat was chosen as a special defect of a troll and sent to his current location to be shown off and bargained for. It was only a matter of time before the auctioning began, so said the cerulean blood dressed for the part of the announcer. His smug appearance was begging for a punch to the face, but who had their hands free to do that? Definitely not Karkat, but he really wanted to.

It wasn't too soon before the shackled trolls were being lead on stage from behind the curtain and auctioned off like limited time items rather than living, scared to death people. Four trolls went before Karkat, and he felt sorry for them because their fear was obvious in their walk, their posture, their face. Then it was his turn. He snarled as he was approached, sharp teeth showing and brow pinched in fury. He was only chuckled at as he was grabbed and shoved toward the center of the stage. Karkat almost tripped before regaining his balance.

Being the main attraction now on the stage, he couldn't escape the gaze of dozens of eyes that were judging him, wondering if he would be worth their money. He only scowled at them before lowering his own gaze to the floor; he didn't want to see their initial reaction when the cerulean blood announced his mutation. All he heard was gasps of surprise, excitement, and probably disgust, but it still made him wince when the words were broadcasted for all to hear.

Karkat had been right in assuming that his secret would win some high-bloods' attention, and he wouldn't doubt if he would be the highlight of the auction. The bids rose higher and higher, along with Karkat's anxiety. Who would he be going home with? What would they make him do? How would they treat him?

It felt like hours as the price for the young troll continued to rise, but there was a voice that was becoming familiar every few seconds. Karkat's stomach dropped, because this was really happening and he couldn't do anything to prevent it. Soon there was only that particular voice, and then his auctioning was over. Apparently he had been bought by some violet blood that struck the announcer's attention. He must have been someone important.

Karkat was lead off stage and replaced by some other poor troll. Backstage, Karkat was handed over to the high-blood, and now he could see who owned the voice that made him want to punch it. He glanced over the taller troll and realized he had a ridiculous purple streak in his hair, donned thick-rimmed glasses, and wore a military outfit of some sort. Douche bag.

Apparently this guy was studying Karkat as well because his eyes were shifting every few moments and he had a thoughtful expression on his face. When he suddenly spoke, Karkat jumped. "I am Eridan Ampora. And you are?"

"Fuck you." Oops, there went his tongue, hateful as ever.

The mutant blood had expected Eridan to be outraged that a low-blood had insulted him, avoided answering his question correctly. Instead, and very much to Karkat's surprise, Eridan simply chuckled like he had been told a joke. "I see you have a tempered-mouth. Good, I fuckin' hate pleasantries."

Alright, that was a surprise, but Karkat still thought he was a douche bag, especially with that weird accent. Who even spoke like that?

"Alright," Eridan stated, spinning on his heel, "let's go before you start an uproar. I'm tired of being around these land-dweller ingrates."

Self-absorbed, narcissistic douche bag. Karkat rolled his eyes as he followed behind Eridan. This was who owned him now? Ugh, that was still a bitter taste in his mouth, even if he was thinking it. Karkat just hoped this was as bad as the sea-dweller got. Over the sweeps, he had learned violet blood castes were prone to being more aggressive and violent than other blood castes on the hemospectrum. Karkat had every right to be worried if that was the case with Eridan.

Fuck this whole thing. It honestly made him want to cry, but he wouldn't. He wouldn't do anything that revealed his inner-turmoil until he was in his new room, away from this shitty experience and alone with his thoughts. Fuck his mutated blood and his past self for screwing up so severely.


End file.
